Selling My Mom Made Me Public Enemy No. 1

Seeing him still trying to get close, Mom dropped to her knees. With her hands clasped, she banged her head against the floor.

"Hit me if you want. Just don't touch my child! I'll do whatever you want!"

The male caregiver was stunned. He was completely unsure of what to do and turned to Grace instead.

Even Grace stood there dumbfounded for a second before rushing forward to calm her down.

"Mom, it's okay, it's okay. This is a hospital. You're safe here. I'm your daughter. I'll always be right here and keep you safe."

Mom trembled all over. Only after the caregiver left did she slowly begin to calm down.

Viewers in the livestream went completely silent, trying to make sense of why she had suddenly been so terrified.

Then, one of them seemed to figure it out.

"Mrs. Perkins must've mistaken the caregiver for one of the traffickers since he's a man. She'd rather risk herself than let anything happen to her two daughters. How touching."

That comment sparked a wave of outrage in the chat.

"Where's that ungrateful brat? Step forward and apologize to your own mom!"

"Even when her mother risks her life for her, all Hope gives in return is hatred!"

Watching my mom like that, I couldn't help but snort. I had no plans to stop Grace from livestreaming. Mom's true nature would come out eventually anyway.

The drama only made things worse online. On the very next day, my company sent me a termination notice.

I stormed into my boss' office the following morning. "I didn't do anything wrong at work! On what grounds are you firing me? Where's my severance pay?"

He waved me off with disdain. "Hope, our company doesn't welcome criminals like you. You have ten minutes to get out. Awful people like you drag down our image. Get lost. It's bad luck having you here."

He shoved me out of his office, causing me to stumble and fall.

Ignoring the whispers and snickers around me, I bit my lip and shot back. "I didn't commit any crime and I'm not a criminal! You have no right to call me that!"

Before he could reply, my coworkers chimed in with their own jabs.

"She wasn't arrested because she exploited a loophole in the law. Back in our town, traffickers would've been beaten to death on the spot."

"Yeah, and she sold her own mom too. Who knows, maybe she'd sell us next."

Gritting my teeth, I picked myself up and walked back to my desk.

It had been trashed. My personal laptop had been stomped to pieces.

I asked quietly, but coldly, "Who did this?"

No one answered. I stormed to the security office.

The guard there shrugged impatiently. "I have no idea. The camera near your desk was down today. Nobody saw anything."

Seeing them all helping each other, I clenched my fists, forced myself to gather my few belongings, and left the office.

But what I saw outside made me stop dead.

Dozens of reporters and a sea of onlookers blocked the entrance. People in the back were even lifting banners that read "She Sold Her Mother and Killed Her Father. Justice for Hope's victims!"

A reporter shoved a microphone in my face with righteous anger written all over him.

"Ms. Hope Perkins, back when you were ten years old, were you broke, or just stupid? Bet you had fun spending the dirty money, huh?"

The crowd around him was roaring with cheers and jeers.

I grabbed the microphone, gritted my teeth, and said each word slowly, "I'll repeat myself. My father filed 99 appeals against me. Every single court ruled me innocent."

Then, I added, "All of this is on them."